


remind me again how i'm supposed to feel

by unlshthfrckngbts



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: F/F, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Slow Build, at least as slow as it can be when it's only 11k, more like feelings acceptance, ritsuko's agonized internal monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlshthfrckngbts/pseuds/unlshthfrckngbts
Summary: For a moment, she considers lighting another cigarette, staying out a bit longer. But the exhaustion hangs heavy in addition to whatever this other feeling is, so she quietly—numbly—collects her ashtray and phone before retreating inside the apartment. It’s only after the balcony door has been slid shut and locked does she allow herself to release the breath she’s been holding.
Relationships: Akagi Ritsuko & Kaji Ryouji, Akagi Ritsuko & Katsuragi Misato, Akagi Ritsuko/Ibuki Maya, Aoba Shigeru & Hyuuga Makoto & Ibuki Maya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	remind me again how i'm supposed to feel

There’s a certain feeling of unease knowing Kaji is back in Tokyo-3. It’s not like Ritsuko _hates_ him or anything, but thinking about him means thinking about the past and thinking about relationships, and that’s not something she has time to dwell on (or would prefer to do anyways, even if she _did_ have the time). Things were going just fine in the delicately crafted life she’d spent years building for herself, but of course the Angels had to attack, and of course everything had been downhill since then.

With a sigh, Ritsuko pushes back from her desk and lets her chair roll her out of arm’s reach from her computer. Though things had become what felt like constant chaos since the appearance of the third Angel, there are still the occasional mind-numbing days full of boredom and entirely too much paperwork. Today is one of them. She’s been shifting through damage reports and budget proposals for what feels like hours, and it’s not even lunchtime yet.

She grabs her coffee mug from her desk and heads to the cafeteria, desperate for a change of scenery. On days like this, she wishes NERV had windows, but she supposes she’ll just have to tolerate the bleak corridors and stuffy office she practically lives out of these days.

Just before she rounds the corner into the cafeteria, Ritsuko catches the sound of a voice, low and coaxing, and immediately wants to turn around and return to her office, coffee be damned. She doesn’t have _time_ for this right now, even if she is desperate for anything that isn’t tiny text on a page. It doesn’t help that whatever he’s saying sounds to be another weird attempt to get Misato into bed with him, ugh, she wishes those two would just—

Ritsuko enters the room and sure enough, Kaji is standing with his back to the entrance, leaning up against one of the vending machines and head ducked down in a way he probably thinks is so seductive. But instead of Misato’s bright red jacket peeking out from behind (in front of?) him, there’s a small glimpse of beige. 

“—so whaddya say, sweetheart?” Kaji’s voice travels. Ritsuko frowns and heads to the coffee pot at the counter, deciding to just ignore whatever the hell’s going on, except she almost drops and shatters her mug when she sees who Kaji's got cornered.

Ritsuko loudly clears her throat as she pours her coffee. “Maya, you can just tell him to fuck off if he’s making you uncomfortable. He’ll listen.”

Kaji jumps, seemingly only just noticing her presence. He looks quickly between Ritsuko and a red faced Maya who is indeed visibly uncomfortable before holding up both hands in front of him and stepping back. “Hey now, I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m sorry if anybody got uncomfortable.”

Ritsuko narrows her eyes at him and takes a sip of her coffee, scoffing when it turns out to be cold. Instead of hanging around while waiting for a fresh pot to brew, she pops it in the microwave and suddenly can’t wait to get back to her office. She quietly watches Maya retrieve a drink from the vending machine before shooting Ritsuko an appreciative look and ducking out of the cafeteria.

“So, Ritzy—”

“Don’t call me that,” she says as Kaji saunters over to lean against the counter next to her, arms behind his head. “You know you haven’t unlocked that level of friendship yet.”

“Still?” Kaji asks, playing shock. “After all these years? After all we’ve been through? I’m hurt.”

In spite of herself, Ritsuko allows him a small smile. But: “What are you doing cornering other women, anyways? Misato will kill you if she finds out.”

“Ahh, Katsuragi and I are taking a little break,” he says. “She hasn’t answered her phone in a few days, so I’m giving her space.”

The microwave dings, and Ritsuko removes her steaming mug. Kaji makes a move to pass her the sugar, but she shakes her head. “I’ve been drinking it black lately.”

“Black coffee? Man, you really have changed, Ritsuko.”

She shrugs, won’t admit that the bitterness helps to keep her in check from feeling too optimistic. “I’m heading back to my office,” she tells him, holding up her mug. He gives her a tiny salute and she heads towards the door, but something stops her halfway across the room. She turns to face Kaji once more before saying, “By the way, leave Maya alone. She’s not interested.”

Kaji makes a face like he wants to say something more, but Ritsuko doesn’t give him the chance.

\---

Later, Ritsuko is leaning back in her desk chair when her phone vibrates. It’s late and most staff have long since left, clocked out for the day and now off having dinner with their friends or families or whatever it is that people do when their work doesn’t seem to leech into every detail of their life. She pulls her cell out of her coat pocket and squints at the screen, furrowing her brows.

_16:48 RK: Sorry about earlier, I didn’t know. She’s cute. Congrats._

_16:50 RA: What are you talking about_

She places the phone on her desk and decides to pack up for the night. She’s not foolish enough to think it possible to be productive any longer. Only once her bag is neatly packed does she return to whatever it is Kaji’s got to say.

_16:53 RK: Aren’t you two together?_

Ritsuko is stunned. She stares at the screen for a solid minute before figuring she should probably reply.

_17:07 RA: No? What makes you say that?_

_17:10 RK: You stepped in pretty fast. Heard some of the crew talking after._

Ritsuko shoves her bag over her shoulder and locks her office door behind her. She doesn’t have time for this. She just wants to go back to her apartment, take a shower, and sleep to pretend like none of this is happening.

But of course by the time she’s walked all the way home from the station and is unlocking her front door, the curiosity in her gut is celebrating a win as she begrudgingly dials Kaji’s number.

He picks up on the first ring, as if the bastard has nothing better to do than gossip. _“Sounds like somebody’s in denial, Ritsuko.”_

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffs, resisting the urge to lob her keys across the counter. “And that’s why I’m calling you. What’s going on?”

_“Sure you aren’t calling me after hours for anything else? Like I said, Katsuragi—”_

“Ryoji,” Ritsuko warns.

_“Alright, alright. You know I’m joking. I just thought you and the little bridge bunny were together because I’ve never seen you react like that for anybody else before, and then I overheard the two guys from the bridge talking about how she was asking where you were later.”_

Maya was asking about her? Hmm.

“It’s just simple courtesy to save somebody from your awful advances,” Ritsuko says, swapping her phone between her hands as she takes off her jacket and hangs it by the door. She slips off her shoes and lines them up underneath the hook. “I’m sure you’re used to the loss.”

Kaji laughs heartily on the other end of the line, surprising her. _“See, that’s what I’m saying. The claws are out for everyone else.”_ There’s a rustling noise and then the faint sound of another voice in the distance. _“Anyways, I’d love to chat more, but I’ve gotta go. See ya around HQ.”_

Ritsuko hums a goodbye and ends the call, setting it gently on the counter next to her keys and work bag. She stares at it for a minute, trying to process. When had today become such a big deal? _Why_ had it become such a big deal? More importantly: why was she even considering anything Kaji had to say, of all people? She shakes her head and laughs quietly to herself before heading off to shower and get ready for bed.

While brushing her teeth, she catches herself staring at her reflection far longer than usual. It makes her pause. The woman staring back at her looks tired and washed out, if she’s being brutally honest with herself. The constant stress has bloomed dark shadows under her eyes that makeup can only do so much for, and her hair desperately needs a touch up—her roots are starting to show, threatening a faint image of her mother. She shudders at the thought and rummages through the medicine cabinet for hair bleach, making a mental note to pick some up from the store next time when she comes up empty handed.

Ritsuko retreats to her bedroom and turns off the light, climbing into bed with a sense of finality. It’s how every night goes lately. She works late and comes home exhausted. She lays in bed for hours thinking about work because her brain didn’t get the memo that she’s clocked out, she’s _done_ , it’s time for sleep. And then, at some point, she’s waking up the next morning to her alarm blaring, and a whole new day starts again.

Except they’re not new, not really. The days just kind of bleed together now. There are some that stand out from the others, sure; days with an Angel attack are definitely a whole lot different from the days spent cleaning up afterwards or doing repairs or paperwork or synch tests with the pilots. But they’re all similar enough in that Ritsuko’s _exhausted_ and she misses the days when she felt like she existed outside of NERV.

She stares at the ceiling and thinks about her college days, about how even though she was blindly, desperately trying to follow her mother’s footsteps and break out from under her shadow at the same time, she still felt hopeful for the future.

She’s not sure she can say the same still.

Her cell phone chimes from the bedside table suddenly, briefly illuminating the room in a weak blue light. She’s tempted to ignore it, knows that if it were anything serious she’d be receiving a call instead of a text, but it’s not like it seems she’ll be getting to sleep any time soon anyways. She opens her inbox and is momentarily blinded by the screen, squinting to make out the message.

_23:58 MI: thank you for today. kaji was being really insistent and i didn’t know how to make him stop_

Ritsuko sits up. Maya? She types a reply.

_00:01 RA: He gets like that sometimes. You just have to tell him no and he’ll back off though_

_00:02 MI: oh god i’m so sorry for texting you so late, i hope i didn’t wake you up_

Ritsuko looks at the time and snorts. Midnight is hardly late by her hours anymore, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find the message sweet. Considerate. That’s it.

_00:05 RA: All good. I was just about to try to sleep now_

_00:06 MI: goodnight!_

Ritsuko sends a final goodnight text of her own before returning her phone to the table and laying back down, suddenly feeling calm enough to fall asleep. And when the chime of her alarm wakes her in the morning, Ritsuko finds herself feeling less dread than usual.

\---

The following weeks are fairly consistent with what has become Ritsuko’s idea of “normal”—an Angel attacks, she oversees the necessary repairs for the Eva units, pours hours upon hours into paperwork and research, helps prepare for the next extraterrestrial nightmare. Rinse and repeat.

Or at least it would be the same as usual, if it weren’t for one detail.

Since the day in the cafeteria and her talk with Kaji, Ritsuko has felt herself... _noticing_ Maya more often. Nothing huge, really. She’s just looking out for her staff. They chat more now, at the vending machines or in the hallway or on the bridge during a lull in synch testing. It’s not a big deal.

What is a big deal, however, is the way Ritsuko comes home dead tired every night like usual, but she dreads the mornings less and less. She doesn’t count her steps on the walk to the train station out of anxiety anymore. It seems to take a little less coffee to prepare her for the day ahead. She’d even be tempted to agree that it takes her brain less time to shut down at night over lingering thoughts about NERV at large, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. The _work_ related thoughts have certainly subsided enough for her to notice, but only because they’ve been replaced.

She’s standing on the shitty little balcony of her apartment after work, leaning over the railing and smoking a cigarette when her cell phone rings. She answers without even checking the number—a rare occurrence. “Hello?”

_“Hi,”_ Maya says, sounding a little breathless across the static. _“Did you leave headquarters yet?”_

Hearing Maya’s voice isn’t surprising, per se, but it still causes a wrinkle between Ritsuko’s brows. “I left about an hour ago. Did you forget something?”

_“No, I—does that mean you’re home?”_

“Yes, why?”

There’s a sigh on the other end, and Ritsuko almost classifies it as relieved. _“The news was talking about a stabbing at your station. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. They aren’t releasing any details other than that it was a woman.”_

Oh. So it _was_ relief.

“Oh,” Ritsuko says. She frowns at herself for the eloquent response. “Yes, I’m fine. I must’ve passed through before it happened.”

_“I’m glad.”_

Ritsuko isn’t sure how to respond, and a period of silence follows. She’s about to say something when Maya’s voice carries to her ear instead.

_“Well, it’s late and I should get to bed. I’m glad you’re alright. Goodnight, Dr. Akagi.”_

Ritsuko has time to mumble a farewell before setting her phone on the railing next to her ashtray, putting distance between her and the thing like it’s offended her.

Maya had called her out of worry for her safety.

She puts a hand to her forehead and inhales on her momentarily forgotten cigarette, looking out across the city. A window in one of the other complexes goes dark, lights turned off in preparation for sleep. Traffic lights blink in the distance beneath her, unnecessary without stuffy daytime traffic. The only visible car winds the streets slowly before disappearing into an alleyway.

Ritsuko isn’t used to people worrying about her. _For_ her.

The cigarette dies in her fingers, for once unable to compete with her thoughts. She leans down until her face rests in the cradle of her bent arms on the railing, and when a breeze blows past she can feel goosebumps raise on her forearms against her cheek.

For a moment, she considers lighting another cigarette, staying out a bit longer. But the exhaustion hangs heavy in addition to whatever this other feeling is, so she quietly—numbly—collects her ashtray and phone before retreating inside the apartment. It’s only after the balcony door has been slid shut and locked does she allow herself to release the breath she’s been holding.

\---

It’s late afternoon and Ritsuko’s sitting at her desk, scanning over a synch report a week later when a quiet knock sounds at her door. She looks up to see Maya shyly leaning into her office with a folder held to her chest, and suddenly all thoughts of numbers and percentages have left the building.

“Come in,” she says.

Maya gives a small nod and gently closes the door behind her. She steps into the office and offers the folder to Ritsuko. “Here are the Magi records for the week.”

Ritsuko groans at the thickness of the folder and the _thud_ it makes when she drops it onto her desk after accepting it from Maya. She’s just hoping there’s not another weird personal note from whatever remains of her mother’s consciousness in the computer randomly mixed in like last week. “More paperwork, just what I wished for.”

Maya laughs quietly behind her hand, and Ritsuko distractedly catalogues it as _cute_. She watches Maya tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear before their eyes meet.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Maya says, quickly looking away as a faint pink rises on her cheeks. She’s halfway out the door when Ritsuko manages to find her tongue.

“Maya?”

Maya turns around slowly. “Yes, Dr. Akagi?”

Ritsuko frowns, motions for her to come back into the office. “You can call me Ritsuko, you know. I thought I told you that already.”

“The boys aren’t going to like that.”

“Do you really think I care what Aoba and Hyuga think?” Ritsuko asks with a raised eyebrow, and Maya laughs again. Ritsuko collects her win. Then, “Are you busy Sunday?”

“Sunday? That’s my day off. Do you need me to come in?”

Ritsuko, knowing full well Maya is scheduled off Sunday after a quick scan of the schedule this morning, shakes her head. “No. I was just wondering if you had plans.”

“No plans,” Maya says with a small smile.

“Would you like to grab coffee on Sunday then?”

Ritsuko watches Maya’s eyes widen in surprise. “With you?”  
“With me,” Ritsuko confirms.

Maya’s smile widens. It’s genuine, Ritsuko notes. She’s not sure why she would’ve expected anything less from Maya. “I’d like that.”

Ritsuko allows herself a smile too before remembering the paperwork on her desk. Maya watches her gaze shift to the folder and gives one more laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get a head start on that then.”

Once the door closes behind Maya and Ritsuko is left alone again, she glares at the folder. There’s really no need for a week’s worth of reports to be _that much_.

She flips the cover open in annoyance, but the contempt dissolves at the sight of a pink sticky note on the front page. There’s a little doodle of a cartoon cat saying _“good luck!”_ on it.

Ritsuko pins it to her noteboard and gets to work.

\---

_20:15 MI: did you have any place in mind for sunday?_

_20:16 RA: Not really_

_20:19 MI: a cute cafe just opened near my apartment and i’ve been wanting to check it out! we could go there?_

_20:22 RA: That sounds perfect_

\---

By the time Sunday rolls around, Ritsuko feels like it’s taken years instead of days. She spends longer than she’d ever admit getting ready in the morning, trying to decide on an outfit that looks casual (but is still nice) and a lipstick shade that would match (but wouldn’t be too obnoxious or overwhelming). She’s just glad she redid her roots recently enough, so that’s one less thing to worry about.

She spends the train ride to Maya’s neighborhood thinking about the nature of this whole outing. Why had she been so worried about her outfit? Is it a date? Neither one of them had mentioned it, and she’s not even entirely sure if that’s how she’d intended it when she asked. She thinks about the last time she went on a date and stares at her shoes in silent horror when she can’t remember.

The scuffed floor of the train is suddenly very interesting for the remainder of her ride.

The cafe actually isn’t much of a far walk from the station at all. She squints down at Maya’s directions on her phone, walks the couple of blocks, and almost misses the place entirely because of how tucked away it is. She only realizes she’s arrived by—

“Ritsuko!”

She turns around and sees Maya waving at her, holding up her other hand to shade her eyes from the late morning sun. She hadn’t recognized her sitting in the little patio space and had walked right past like an idiot. Whoops.

“How long have you been waiting?” Ritsuko asks, taking the opposite seat at the small glass table. She knows she’s early, so that means Maya was even earlier.

“I just got here a couple minutes ago,” Maya assures her. “My neighbors’ kids were being loud this morning, so I left a little early just to get away from the noise.”

Ritsuko hums and looks up at the cafe’s facade. The paw prints painted around the frosted glass of the front door are cute, even if they’re a little strange. “Shall we go inside and order then?”

Maya smiles and nods, something like excitement glimmering in her eyes. Ritsuko’s so momentarily stunned that she almost misses holding the door for her, but she recovers quickly enough and—

Cats?

“Welcome!” greets an employee from behind the counter as a small bell tinkles above them. Ritsuko watches Maya lead the way towards pastry cases and menu boards while trying to take in the scene around her at the same time. “Have you two been here before?”

“Nope!” Maya says, smiling back at Ritsuko.

“Oh, well then an extra welcome to the cafe! We’re glad to have you,” the employee says, rummaging around behind the counter. She pulls out two clipboards and a pair of pens and passes them over to Maya and Ritsuko. “We’ll just need you to fill out these forms first to acknowledge our house rules.”

The bell over the door rings again as a young couple enters the cafe, and the employee moves on to assist them. Ritsuko reads over the paper—no feeding the cats cafe food, no picking them up without asking first, no suing the place if you get scratched—and signs.

Maya does the same and looks up at her shyly. “Is this alright? I thought it sounded fun. I guess I should’ve clarified first though.”

Ritsuko watches another customer scratch a particularly fat tabby behind the ears. “A _cat_ cafe,” she chuckles. She looks back to Maya and smiles. “It’s great.”

Maya opens her mouth to say something, but she’s cut off by the barista returning to take their clipboards. They look over the menu briefly before ordering, Ritsuko sliding in front to pay for both their drinks and Maya’s pastry despite her companion’s quiet protest, and take the small order number placard to one of the empty tables. There are little paw prints stenciled to look like a cat wandered across it, and Ritsuko’s horribly endeared by it all.

“I saw the little cat figures on your desk,” Maya says, tracing the edge of the placard with her finger. “And I thought since this place just opened, it would be the perfect opportunity.”

“It is,” Ritsuko says, leaning down around the table to hold her hand out to an approaching black cat. The cat nudges its face into her hand enthusiastically, and Ritsuko can feel the vibrations of its purr. She looks back up to Maya. “I had a cat, you know.”

Maya’s smile falters. “Had?”

“Yes.” The cat jumps up onto the bench next to Ritsuko and paws at her hand before climbing up into her lap. Something small in her cracks, but she simply strokes the cat and ignores it to watch Maya fidget with a sugar packet. “My grandmother took him in when I moved apartments to be closer to headquarters. I adopted him while I was in college.” She smiles to herself, momentarily remembering how ratty and angry he had looked in the shelter. Honestly, the phone call hadn’t surprised her. The cat had already been on the older side when she’d taken him in. If anything, it was a surprise he had lasted this long.

Ritsuko sighs. “She called last week to tell me he’d passed,” she says.

“Oh,” Maya breathes. The sadness and regret in her eyes takes Ritsuko by surprise. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I—if I’d known, I wouldn’t have suggested we come here—”

“It’s alright,” Ritsuko says. The cat in her lap continues to purr. “I wasn’t there to take care of him as much as I probably should have been. And it doesn’t bother me being here either. I like it, actually.”

Maya doesn’t look satisfied with her answer, but a waiter interrupts them with their order. He slides Maya’s croissant in front of her, places their two mugs on the table, and gives them a cheerful smile before departing with their numbered placard.

“Oh my god,” Maya says, leaning over her mug with sparkling eyes and a smile. She turns it so Ritsuko can see the cat face stenciled into the foam.

“This place really goes for the full atmosphere,” Ritsuko chuckles, taking a sip of her own coffee. “It’s cute.”

“Doesn’t yours have one too?”

Ritsuko shakes her head. “I got an americano. They don’t have the milk or foam like lattes.”

Maya frowns down at her mug for a moment. “I almost feel bad for drinking it and ruining it…”

They sip their drinks in a companionable silence as music plays softly over the cafe’s speakers and other patrons chat amongst themselves. The cat in Ritsuko’s lap remains a grounding presence, and she strokes her free hand down its back as it gently kneads her thigh. She hasn’t had this kind of comforting contact with an animal in a long time, and she’s surprised to realize how calm she feels in that moment—there’s no low-burning dread sitting in her gut that she’d almost gotten used to, just a warm cat in her lap, some unobtrusive indie song playing overhead, and—

“Do you want some of this croissant?” Maya asks, and Ritsuko lets her focus drift back to see her tearing the pastry in half and sliding the plate to the center of the table. “It has chocolate in it. It’s really good.”

She accepts the offered half and takes a bite, laughing a little when the crust flakes and small crumbs fall onto the cat. “It is good, but also a mess,” she says, brushing the crumbs from black fur. “How’s your coffee?”

“Also really good, now that I’ve accepted my status as a cute coffee-kitty murderer and can enjoy Mr. Kitty’s delicious sacrifice,” Maya says, smiling when Ritsuko laughs at that. “I’m glad we came here and that you invited me out today.”

Ritsuko is momentarily blindsided by Maya’s sudden declaration, but she recovers quickly. “I am too. It’s nice to get out sometimes and be able to just...take a break.”

Maya wraps her hands around her mug and nods, looking down at what remains of the drink. “I enjoy my job,” she says slowly, “but it really can be a lot.” She then looks up at Ritsuko in mortification. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t say that to someone who’s my boss.”

Ritsuko waves the comment off with a sigh. “It _is_ a hard job. There’s no shame in admitting that. But we have to do what we have to do, and we have to find ways through it.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like for the pilots,” Maya mumbles. “Just watching things from the outside is difficult enough, but to actually experience it all...I don’t think I would be able to handle that kind of stress. They sure are strong kids!”

“Are you handling your current amount of stress alright?” Ritsuko asks, resting her chin on her palm in a way that she hopes translates as receptive instead of scrutinizing. The cat in her lap meows in protest when she leans forward slightly, and it jumps down to swat a toy away from another nearby cat on the floor.

“Like you said, it helps to get away from everything, even if it’s only for a few hours.” She smiles to herself. “Makoto and Shigeru invited me to some kind of festival coming up. Shigeru’s band is going to play at it.”

“That sounds fun,” Ritsuko says, ignoring the strange feeling the news prompts. She shoves it to the back of her mind for later dissection. “I always see him playing air guitar on the bridge when he thinks nobody’s watching. I didn’t know he was actually in a band.”

“Yeah,” Maya laughs, back to her usual self. “Fuyutsuki told him to cut it out once, but he still does it. It’s nice entertainment on the slow days.” She calms from her laughter and gives Ritsuko a determined look. “It can be hard sometimes, but I have faith in us. Like, NERV.”

Ritsuko shifts her hand so she can hide a small smile behind her knuckles at Maya’s flustered blush settling across her nose. “Good. You know I need you.” She then realizes her own slip and adds, “The boys are good at what they do, but if I had to smell Hyuga’s cologne more than I already do, I don’t think I would last even a month.”

Maya’s eyes are doing something Ritsuko can only describe as _sparkling_ , and they sit there locked in place until a large orange cat leaps up onto their table and startles both of them out of whatever trance they had fallen into. Maya chokes out a surprised laugh and Ritsuko buries her face into her hand to muffle her own laughter while an employee behind the counter shrieks something that sounds like, “ _Clyde, get down_!”

They leave the cafe shortly after that. Maya invites her to stop by a bookstore down the street, and though Ritsuko hates to end their day together, she knows the stack of files on her kitchen counter isn’t going to sort itself. Thankfully, Maya nods in understanding and gives her a smile regardless with a promise to see each other tomorrow morning.

Ritsuko walks back to the station alone and shuffles onto her train with the afternoon traffic of families heading home after spending the day about. At least one small child is crying, but she ignores the noise and pulls out her phone.

_15:32 RA: Today was fun_

She stares down a second message typed on the screen before hitting send.

_15:33 RA: We should do it again sometime_

\---

On Monday morning, Ritsuko finds a small piece of paper slipped under the door to her office. Another doodle of a cat is drawn on the front, but this time it’s saying a cheery _“thank you!”_ with stars around it and a steaming coffee mug in one paw. Ritsuko tacks it up next to the other one and decides to schedule her lunch for the day during the same slot as the bridge crew’s.

On Tuesday afternoon, Misato makes herself at home in the chair on the opposite side of Ritsuko’s desk. She’d rounded on her immediately after the sync test and trailed Ritsuko through the halls to her office despite the blonde’s attempts to shake her off, and she currently sits sprawled with her head hanging backwards over the back of the chair, ranting about something or another. Ritsuko thinks she heard Shinji and Asuka’s names somewhere in there, but she hasn’t been paying attention. It’s nearing the evening, and Ritsuko had intended on going home early today (or, at least, what would be early for her standards but was closer to the normal, on-time schedule for the day staff) as long as she could finish her few final tasks for the day.

“Hey,” Misato says suddenly, bringing a hand down hard on Ritsuko’s desk close to where she’d been writing down the day’s test results into the pilots’ files. Ritsuko _tsks_ when the motion startles her and causes her pen to skip and make a particularly deformed number 8 on Asuka’s sheet in the process. She goes over it a couple times, trying to make it at least somewhat legible. “We should go out tonight.”

Ritsuko squints up at her over her reading glasses. “Don’t you have children to watch over? Be a guardian for?”

“They’re teenagers, they can look out for themselves,” Misato says, waving a hand at Ritsuko’s unimpressed and unconvinced stare. “Besides, it’s Shinji’s night to make dinner. They’ll be fine.”

“He definitely cooks better than you,” Ritsuko huffs, shuffling the files to bring his to the top. “Or, I suppose more accurately, he cooks at all to begin with. I don’t know how you survived before he moved in.” A pause, then a shudder. “I don’t think I _want_ to know, either.”

“Hey, TV dinners aren’t _that_ bad. They’re quick, easy, and convenient!”

“They’re also not meant to make up your _entire diet_.”

Misato grumbles something and looks away, chin on her palm and elbow now on Ritsuko’s desk. “I ordered takeout too sometimes. It wasn’t _all_ TV dinners.”

Ritsuko ignores her to finish updating Shinji’s file, then opens Rei’s considerably thicker one. She glances at the calendar and makes note that Rei’s next health check-in is coming up on Friday. More forms and notes to add to the folder.

A shadow falls over the papers in front of her as Misato leans forwards over Ritsuko’s desk. “Ooooh, who are those from? I didn’t know you had adoring fans too.”

Ritsuko looks up to see her reaching for Maya’s notes and swats her hand away. “They’re from Maya.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that, by the way?” Misato asks, sitting back down and slouching forward to lean on her elbows on Ritsuko’s desk once more, this time with her chin in both hands like a grade schooler awaiting gossip. “Kaji said something happened with you two.”

“Oh, so you and Kaji are speaking again?”

“What that idiot and I do is nothing of your business.”

“And yet here you are, inquiring about my business,” Ritsuko muses, not looking up from the sheet in front of her. “Sounds pretty suspicious.”

“Do you like her?”

Ritsuko sets her pen down as calmly as she can manage. “Look,” she says, “I don’t know what Kaji told you, but nothing is going on.”

“That,” Misato points to the notes, “doesn’t look like nothing.”

Ritsuko looks at her in disbelief. “They’re notes from a friend.”

“Oh, so you’re friends? Not just colleagues?” Misato asks, voice inflecting like she’s cornered Ritsuko into some undeniable and game-ending admission. She’s got a smug look on her face, and Ritsuko tries to swallow her annoyance.

“As if everybody doesn’t know that you and Hyuga are all buddy-buddy lately,” she says, closing Rei’s file with a little more force than necessary. “Did you actually need anything, or are you just here to bother me?”

“I’m just trying to catch up with you. I feel like we haven’t gotten to just talk to each other very much recently.” Misato visibly droops until she’s resting a cheek on her arm, and Ritsuko momentarily feels bad for being short with her. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Our entire friendship was built on you bothering me,” Ritsuko says with a small smile. Misato brightens at it. “The way you never shut up in college? You’ve been bothering me since the start.”

“That’s what friends are for!” Misato insists. “Also for giving relationship tips.”

“I am _not_ taking advice from somebody who has been ‘dating,’” Ritsuko uses air quotes, “Ryoji Kaji on and off for, what, how many years now? Besides, there’s no relationship to give tips for. I’m sorry, oh great Major Katsuragi, but your services are unnecessary here.”

Misato rolls her eyes hard enough that Ritsuko swears her whole head moves with it. “Yeah, alright, but do you _want_ there to be a relationship?”

Ritsuko sighs. “Remember that part about minding your own business? Or are you exempt from abiding by your own rules?”

“We’ve been friends for years, Ritzy—”

“How many times do I have to tell you and Kaji not to call me that—”

“—and _I’ve_ never given you cute notes before.”

Ritsuko leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, leveling Misato slouched on her desk with an unimpressed stare. “Have you met Maya? That’s just the kind of person she is.”

“Oh, she’s definitely sweet,” Misato agrees. “But Hyuga has mentioned that she talks about you sometimes.”

“I’m her boss.”

“Ritsukooo,” Misato whines. “Why can’t you just try it and see what happens? Worst case scenario is that she doesn’t like you. No harm, no foul. When was the last time you dated anyone, anyways?”

“You’re joking, right? The worst case scenario is that it entirely disrupts our ability to function in our shared workplace,” Ritsuko says incredulously. “Which, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, is kind of necessary to keep functioning in order to protect humanity.”

Misato pushes herself backwards and up from Ritsuko’s desk in a frustrated flourish. “Fine, do what you want. I should get going. Shinji and Asuka are probably wondering where I am.”

Ritsuko makes a noise in acknowledgement but says nothing, pretending to ignore Misato contradicting her earlier comment about the pilots being fine on their own. She doesn’t want to agitate Misato further and risk her staying longer to argue, so she just watches the other woman leave in silence. When the door shuts behind her (not with a slam, but not quite gently either), Ritsuko releases a breath and slides down in her chair, staring up at the ceiling.

She doesn’t like fighting with Misato. Really. She knows Misato’s heart is in a good place, but Ritsuko just can’t shake the realization that despite all the running away Misato does from her own feelings, she always seems to run straight into other people’s problems instead. It’s a deflection tactic, and Ritsuko would bet money that if she had the mental and emotional capacity to revisit some of her memories from college, she’d be able to spot it there too. Misato’s always been more interested in unpacking other people while she still lives in boxes herself.

Ritsuko won’t act like she’s any better there when it boils down to it. She has her own past and memories locked up and stashed away for her own reasons. The difference comes in that she tries to avoid involvement with others who might become collateral. Misato likely wishes to do the same, but something in her personality draws her to every kicked puppy she sees. Ritsuko still recalls the day Misato had loudly and bravely announced her sparkling new guardianship of Shinji.

She chalks it up to their different experiences with and approaches to loneliness and starts packing up her things to leave for the day. Maya’s notes hang innocently next to various scribbled reminders and appointments and phone extension numbers, but Ritsuko swears she can feel them burning like a stage spotlight on her back as she shrugs out of her lab coat and hangs it on a hook near the door.

She flips off the light, locks the door behind her, and leaves.

\---

Ritsuko knows she’s not doing a flawless job at it, but she’d say she’s doing a pretty decent job at not letting her conversation with Misato get to her. Nobody at NERV notices any difference in her behavior, or if they do, they don’t mention it. Not even Misato brings up the subject again—their argument or its topic—even after walking into the cafeteria one afternoon while Maya and Ritsuko are chatting at one of the tables. (She does, however, throw Ritsuko a very pointed glare.)

In fact, things are going fairly smooth at NERV. There hasn’t been an Angel attack for a couple weeks, and though nobody is foolish enough to be lulled into a false sense of security because of that, they’re able to focus on protective measures and reinforcements for headquarters and supplementary training for the pilots. It’s definitely just another period of calm before the next storm, but like hell they won’t take advantage of the temporary peace.

The problem lies in Ritsuko’s hours outside of NERV. On the clock, she’s collected and focused, just as she’s always prided herself in being, even if the normal pressure and stress is missing. Off the clock, however, even she’s a little horrified by the number of packs of cigarettes she’s gone through and the pile of butts overflowing the ashtray on her kitchen counter. She absentmindedly remembers a semi-drunken New Years promise she’d made to herself to try to cut back and laughs, inhaling from the cigarette currently between her fingers. Fuck. So much for that.

It’s past midnight and she’s sitting in a bath that’s quickly growing cold, replaying the day and staring up at months’ worth of smoke stains on her bathroom ceiling from nights similar to this. It hadn’t even been a bad day. That’s the issue. It had been a pretty great day, actually.

She’d spent the first half of her day overseeing the bridge crew running a system review on the Magi, and though she’d been focused on leading the process, it was impossible even for her to ignore the way Maya kept glancing back over her shoulder at her every time she spoke. She had just written it off as respect—look at somebody when they’re speaking to you, something like that—but when Ritsuko had caught Maya in the act at one point, she’d blushed and quickly spun back around in her chair. It was bizarre, but the review went smoothly otherwise.

No, the real troubling detail had occurred during lunch. Ritsuko had walked into the cafeteria to heat up some leftovers in the microwave, and Maya had been sitting at a table with the rest of the bridge crew, which was fairly normal. They all seemed to get along well, and Maya had mentioned her friendships with her coworkers on multiple occasions. What was also fairly normal was the smile and wave Maya offered when she noticed Ritsuko across the room. It was even normal that after Ritsuko’s food was sufficiently warmed and she’d chosen a seat at one of the tables, Maya eventually migrated to sit with her for the last ten or so minutes of her lunch.

The oddity was that today, when Maya had come to sit down across from her, she’d looked nervous about something. Ritsuko could tell she was fidgeting with the hem of her uniform under the table.

And then, before Ritsuko could say anything, Maya had quickly stumbled through an invitation to go out for lunch together sometime over the long holiday weekend next week. It had been a nervous question, really, asked quickly and somewhat quietly.

Ritsuko lifts her hand and takes a drag from her cigarette, watching the smoke swirl up on her exhale. She’d said yes, of course. But the problem had been that when she’d agreed, Maya had gotten this _look_ on her face, and suddenly Ritsuko had felt like she’d gotten a brick thrown to her stomach. She’d looked so happy and excited, and that expression had been burned into her brain for the rest of the day. She hadn’t even allowed herself to begin addressing the accompanying emotion until she’d closed her apartment door behind her.

But now that she thinks about it, has spent the last hour dissecting her own brain and heart against her will, anxiety curls in her stomach. She shivers and finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out in the (recently emptied) ashtray that she’d brought into the bathroom with her.

Despite everything, she’s not a fool. She knows that she’s probably been ignoring her feelings for at least a little while now—relationships aren’t really a focus in her life right now, so why bother? She hadn’t expected the emotional suckerpunch that came with being unable to deny them, though.

She closes her eyes and sighs, leans her head back and accidentally smacks it on the tile. If she didn’t feel minorly sick about the whole situation, she probably would’ve wished it had rattled some thoughts straight.

The way Maya has been acting lately is probably the worst of the situation, because as annoyed Ritsuko is that she’s managed to develop feelings that stray beyond respectable workplace boundaries for one of her lieutenants, it’s arguably worse that Maya seems to be feeling the same way. She’s not used to it. She’d heard the occasional flirt from classmates back in college and from men in bars when she’d had the time to _go_ to bars, but it was never anything interesting. Never anything she’d even vaguely considered pursuing, and certainly never anything that had been mutual.

She pulls the drain plug in the tub and gets out, not even bothering to wait until the water has fully drained and gingerly stepping over the ashtray to retrieve her towel. The bathroom suddenly feels claustrophobic and oppressively humid despite the chill of sitting in a long-cold bath, but when she passes the mirror, she stops.

Through a foggy layer of condensation, a bootleg replica of her mother stares back at her. She shakes her head to rid the thought as quickly as it’d come. She is not the same, and this situation is not the same. She won’t let it hinder her job at NERV, nor will she allow it to consume her.

\---

Ritsuko ends up taking the train to Maya’s neighborhood again, watching the clouds on the horizon the entire ride and wishing too late that she’d brought an umbrella with for the day. The forecast had warned about rain in the early evening, and though she certainly didn’t get her degree in the meteorology side of science, _something_ looked to be hanging in the distance sooner than evening.

The restaurant they’d decided to meet at is a farther walk from the station than the cat cafe had been, but Ritsuko finds it without issue and decides to wait outside when Maya texts her to let her know she’ll be there soon. She almost feels better for being the first here today considering she’d made Maya wait for her the last time, regardless of the fact that they’d both arrived before the agreed meeting time both times.

Maya rounds the corner just as Ritsuko is stubbing out a cigarette, and Ritsuko feels absolutely pathetic crouched down to the concrete sidewalk when Maya appears over her, a little breathless but smiling and clutching a purse hanging from her shoulder. The yellow of the cardigan she’s wearing almost seems to glow even under the overcast sky, and Ritsuko fleetingly wonders if maybe the sun really was scheduled to make an appearance and hold off that storm until later after all.

“Hi,” Maya says as Ritsuko stands and tosses the butt into a nearby garbage bin, trying to ignore the hint of pink across Maya’s cheeks. It’s just because she ran here.

She ran here? To meet her?

“Hi,” she says back, allowing a small smile of her own. She opens the front door and gestures for Maya to enter.

“You didn’t have to wait for me outside,” Maya says once they’ve been seated at a table and left to look over their menus. “I didn’t think today was going to have such crummy weather.”

“It was no big deal,” Ritsuko assures her, glancing over the laminated sheet without much interest. She’s not even that hungry really, but like hell she would reschedule or postpone this. “And it wasn’t quite so cloudy when I arrived.”

Maya glances up at the single small television in the far corner of the restaurant. “I guess the storm is moving quicker than anticipated.”

“Isn’t Aoba’s festival tomorrow?” Ritsuko asks. She doesn’t particularly care, but she remembers Maya mentioning it.

“Yes,” Maya says, gently setting her menu down on the table. “It’s supposed to be outdoors, so if the storm is really as bad as they say it’ll be and lasts as long as it’s forecast to, he said they’re probably going to postpone it. He sounded sad about it yesterday at lunch.”

Ritsuko doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed Aoba expressing an emotion that could be labelled as sad—nihilistic, sure, but not _sad_ —but she sips her water without comment.

Their server returns to take their order, and Ritsuko asks for whatever Maya is ordering. She almost looks embarrassed by that for some reason, and Ritsuko just finds it all the more endearing.

“I trust your judgement,” she says simply once the waiter leaves, looking at Maya with her chin resting on her palm. Maya continues to seem flustered by the attention.

“The ramen here is really good,” Maya insists, almost like Ritsuko would lie to her and that she should feel the need to defend herself. She smiles down at the tabletop then, and Ritsuko almost sees the moment she slips into memory. “I used to come here with my mother sometimes when I was younger.”

Ah, mothers. Not exactly the conversation topic Ritsuko had been anticipating or hoping for, but the gentleness of Maya’s smile at least hints at something a little less suffocating than her own memories, and she’ll take that. “Did you live in this neighborhood as a child?”

Maya nods. “My apartment actually isn’t too far from the complex my family lived in before Second Impact. After that though...well, a lot of things changed.”

Ritsuko hums in acknowledgement. She finds herself missing the snow on some days, even all these years later.

“We moved after Second Impact to be closer to my grandparents, but I moved back here when I started at NERV. To be honest, I was surprised this place was still open. I think I ordered takeout at least three times a week the first month I moved back,” she laughs.

“A constant in an age of change is a lucky comfort to have,” Ritsuko says, sitting up and smoothing the front of her blouse. “I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse to remember life before the Impact. I guess it’s given me work though, so I can’t complain.”

“What do you think you would’ve done in a normal life? Would you still have become a scientist like your mother?” Maya asks. “Or, actually, would Dr. Akagi’s field of work have been different too?”

Ritsuko sighs, resigning to actually have this conversation because she knows Maya is only genuinely curious. “I don’t think anything would’ve stopped my mother from being a scientist or developing the Magi. She talked about the possibilities with computers and biomechanics even before Second Impact and Gehirn and NERV and the Evas. The Magi System is based on her psyche, but the project itself was almost like a child to her.”

Maya nods. “And you?”

“And me?”

“What about you?” Maya asks, tilting her head a little. “Do you think you would be different?”

Ritsuko stares out the window then and notices it’s started to rain, ahead of schedule like she’d thought. She processes Maya’s question, her curiosity at all.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits.

“Maybe you were just meant to be part of something so incredible,” Maya says, and Ritsuko slowly turns back to face her in confusion. “Maybe it was just meant to be this way.”

Ritsuko doesn’t think fighting aliens on a fucked up and dying planet is exactly the best outcome for humanity or even herself specifically, but she figures it’s probably as much as she deserves. She appreciates Maya’s optimism regardless, though she wants to steer away from wherever this is going. “What about you? Where would you be?”

“If Second Impact hadn’t happened?” Maya goes red then, and Ritsuko hadn’t been expecting a reaction like that. “My mother said I used to talk about wanting to be an idol when I was young.”

Ritsuko snorts in shock before covering her mouth and chuckling instead. “The industry would’ve torn you to shreds.”

“I know, it’s embarrassing,” Maya says. “But I was always interested in computers, so I can’t think of anything. Maybe a vet or something with animals, but I don’t think I could handle seeing them injured or sick.”

“That sounds more like your character,” Ritsuko hums. “Or maybe a cat cafe employee. With a penchant for weekend karaoke.”

Maya looks scandalized and Ritsuko is so thrilled at drawing out that reaction and its level of casualness and comfort that she doesn’t even notice their waiter approach with their food. He carefully places two steaming bowls in front of them, checks for any additional requests, wishes them a pleasant meal, and leaves them to eat, but Maya still has the remaining trace of a blush on her cheeks from their conversation even after he’s gone.

“I actually haven’t come here in a while,” Maya says. She glances up at Ritsuko shyly, bangs hanging into her face as she leans over her bowl a little. “I was really happy when you agreed to come with me.”

Now it’s Ritsuko’s turn to be disarmed. She stares down into her bowl. “Of course.”

The rain picks up quickly, and the few other patrons in the restaurant speak amongst themselves over the echoing torrent against the roof. The ramen _is_ good, and when Ritsuko tells her this, Maya somehow manages to look both relieved and proud in a single expression.

“I’m glad,” she says with a smile. She sets down her chopsticks then and lets her hands fall to her lap where Ritsuko would bet money she’s crumpling and uncrumpling the napkin she’d just grabbed in what she’s noticed is Maya’s visible nervousness. “Um, Ritsuko?”

She doesn’t know what to expect, but makes a noise of acknowledgement around a mouthful of noodles. “Hm?”

“Is this...a date?”

Oh, interesting.

Ritsuko swallows the food in her mouth, neatly places her chopsticks down, and folds her hands on the table while Maya does seemingly everything to avoid her gaze. She looks mortified for putting the question out there as if Ritsuko hadn’t been wondering the same thing since waking up this morning.

“Do you want it to be, Maya?” she asks.

Maya looks up at her like she’s being pranked for not receiving a negative response, and Ritsuko hates it. Does she really think of her like that? More than anything though, she looks shy suddenly, and Ritsuko’s reminded of her quiet and polite distance when they’d first met and started working together.

“I admire you a lot!” Maya finally says, meeting her gaze. “But I don’t—I don’t want to be unprofessional or to assume anything or—”

“Maya,” Ritsuko says before she can talk herself into an overwhelmed whirlwind and derail them from this conversation.

Maya sits a little straighter, and Ritsuko wonders if she’s trying to steel herself for something. “Yes?”

“I want this to be a date.”

Now that it’s out there, now that she’s finally _said_ it, Ritsuko knows it’s true, knows it has been since probably the last time. She still wouldn’t bet anything on it because that wouldn’t be fair to Maya, but it’s there and this can progress however it will because even a negative response will be the end of all the mental gymnastics she’s felt herself going through trying to make sense of the entire situation.

The rain sounds louder now, or maybe it’s the blood rushing in her ears. Ritsuko feels like a child almost, trying to play some adult role she hasn’t bothered putting on in years. The longer the silence stretches on, the more she wonders if maybe she actually managed to miscalculate something here.

“Do you mean it?” Maya asks, and Ritsuko can see the restrained hope in her eyes, careful to not let herself get too far ahead, careful to keep one final layer of a guard up.

“Yes.” Then: “Do you think I would lie about this?”

“It just feels too good to be true,” Maya breathes, finally allowing herself to relax and lean back into her chair a little. She looks like she’s fighting off a smile. “I mean, is this even allowed? Is there not some rule in the handbook about workplace relationships and power hierarchies?”

Ritsuko scoffs. “If there is, Ikari can forget about it. That man would have some nerve to enforce a rule like that.” She pauses then, reminded of her mother, reminded of her hesitancy towards this entire ordeal. “I don’t want this to be something that interferes with work, though.”

“Right! Of course,” Maya says quickly. “Work comes first.”

That almost makes Ritsuko sad, hearing that come out of Maya’s mouth. She remembers being Maya’s age not that long ago and blindly sacrificing herself, throwing her faith to this job in the belief it was what was necessary, but she supposes their line of work doesn’t allow for vacillation. A little self sacrifice for the safety of humanity is probably what humanity would want to hear, after all.

“Nothing will change at work,” Ritsuko says, almost like a final assurance for herself more than anything. She makes eye contact with Maya. “But we’re not at work right now.”

Maya’s response is a flustered smile that she turns down towards her bowl on the table, biting her lip to keep it from splitting her entire face open. “I’m... _really_ happy, Ritsuko.”

Ritsuko’s smiling too, and it feels small and new, but good. She picks up her chopsticks again and prepares a bite of ramen, not wanting to wait too much longer and let the food get cold. “I’m glad. I am, too.”

“Does this mean we’re, um...dating?”

Ritsuko ponders while she chews, weighing this new situation and its angles. She feels like a middle schooler in their first sorry attempt at romance contemplating the term, but she comes up blank for a suitable alternative. “If that’s what you want to call it. Ideally, I’d like to continue doing this, as long as that’s what you want too.”

“Yes,” Maya says quickly. And just as fast, she tacks on, “Please.”

The thought of being able to see Maya again, to spend time with her outside of NERV and in a more equal and casual setting like this...Ritsuko wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but it’d definitely crossed her mind a few of those late nights she’d spent laying awake trying to make sense of this entire situation the last few months. She feels content for the first time in what feels like a long time, and the emotion only swells in her chest when she looks across at the way Maya almost giddily resumes her lunch and realizes she won’t have to try and make excuses to herself to do this again in the future.

They finish their meal with less weighted conversation, and Ritsuko again steps in on the check despite Maya’s protest to cover it herself. She thinks the small pout that Maya makes as she watches the man at the counter hand Ritsuko her change is endearing, but it brightens immediately when Ritsuko promises her that she can get the next time if it means that much to her.

Ritsuko would be lying if she didn’t feel a similar emotion at the idea of _next time_ , even if she was the one who’d said it. She’d also be lying if she said she wasn’t dreading the conclusion of _this time_ and having to go back to her empty apartment, especially in this rain.

“Ah,” Maya says, rooting through her purse and looking out the window at the downpour in embarrassment. She turns to Ritsuko with a sheepish expression. “I didn’t bring an umbrella since the forecast said the rain wouldn’t start until this evening.”

“I have one.” Ritsuko pulls it out of her purse. “I can walk you home, if you’d like.”

“But the station is in the other direction?”

Ritsuko shrugs, undoing the small clasp around the folded umbrella and shaking it out. “Can’t have you catching a cold and missing work, can we?” she says, ever so slightly sly but knowing giving a rational reason will bump Maya out of her worry of being a burden or something ridiculous.

“My apartment is close,” Maya promises, and Ritsuko nods.

The persistent rain for the last hour means the streets and sidewalks are decently flooded, and Ritsuko feels the soles of her shoes squelching with every step in a way she knows means they won’t fully dry for a minimum of two days. Even with the umbrella, her clothes are soaked within a minute just from the splashing of having no choice but to go through the puddle that is the entire sidewalk.

Maya laughs next to her with what sounds to be an accompanying apology, but the heavy droplets hitting the umbrella above them makes it near impossible to make out what she’s saying. She looks just about as bad off as Ritsuko feels—if not worse considering she’s clearly trying to make sure Ritsuko has full coverage of the umbrella by walking with enough space to mean her outside shoulder is getting drenched—but she’s smiling and laughing in a way that doesn’t look upset about it in the slightest. Ritsuko tries to hold the umbrella at an angle so the rain runs off on her own side instead regardless, even if the entire umbrella is futile at that point.

After a few blocks, Maya directs them to cross the street to a large complex. Ritsuko follows her lead up the stairs to the third floor and stands in the corridor outside her door, looking out over the railing to watch the trees waving and bending in the wind as Maya unlocks her apartment.

Maya opens the door and turns around to face Ritsuko, but just as Ritsuko’s about to offer her farewells and head back to the stairwell to begin her trek home, Maya asks, “Do you want to come in? I can make coffee or tea.”

And somehow, Ritsuko accepts.

She shakes her umbrella out before stepping into the apartment behind Maya. Her soggy shoes are discarded in the entryway, but she remains standing in place while Maya disappears to fetch towels. She props her umbrella inside one of her shoes, figuring any residual rain dripping off it can’t possibly destroy the sole any more than their walk here already had.

Maya reappears, offering her a towel. “Don’t worry about tracking water in, I can clean it up later!”

Ritsuko follows her into the apartment. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but somehow this feels correct. It’s a small space, smaller than Ritsuko’s own, but it feels much more lived in and more like a home with the mugs on the kitchen counter, open books splayed across the living room coffee table, and a rouge sweater thrown over the back of the sofa. There’s a pink cushion on said sofa with a cat design Ritsuko recognizes as a twin to the seat cushion Maya keeps at NERV, and suddenly she feels too much of an intruder in the space despite how badly she wants to exist and remain within it.

“Sorry it’s a little messy,” Maya laughs, grabbing the stray sweater like it’s the biggest eyesore Ritsuko’s ever had to look at. “Did you want something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great,” Ritsuko says, feeling only slightly outside of her own brain at the moment. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Yes, of course! It’s the door on the left.”

Ritsuko walks down the short hallway, closes the bathroom door behind her, and stares in the mirror. She wipes off the smudged makeup around her eyes and tries to rearrange her damp hair into something that looks less like a mess, but the woman in the reflection afterwards looks vulnerable.

She’s certainly looked worse, but the whole situation feels odd. She supposes that though not exactly to plan—not that she _had_ one—this outcome for the day was what she’d wanted when she got on the train this morning, wasn’t it? And yet it feels so fragile, so...undeserved, somehow. She’s more indifferent to the realization than she’d expected, but the hint of a dull ache in her chest lingers with the thought.

She wants this, wants it to work out. Wants to make Maya happy, make _herself_ happy. Fuck if she doesn’t deserve it by now.

She realizes she’s probably been standing in the bathroom for longer than necessary. She turns off the light and is greeted by the soft noise of the television filtering down the hall when she opens the door.

Ritsuko reenters the living room to see Maya sitting on the floor in the space between the sofa and the coffee table, laptop open in front of her and the news playing at a low volume on the TV. She’s changed out of the clothes she was wearing previously—which were in pretty bad shape after their walk here, so Ritsuko doesn’t blame her a bit; she kind of wishes she could do the same to get rid of the feeling of wet denim—and when she turns around at the sound of Ritsuko approaching, she can see the faded NERV logo on the front of her black t-shirt. Ritsuko briefly thinks she recognizes it as one of the “prizes” from the bizarre fundraising event Ikari orchestrated a couple years ago.

“Ah, Ritsuko!”

And really, it’s that simple. Walking out to see Maya sitting there—just _existing_ , really—wearing a stupid t-shirt from their high strung and life-risking job, at ease in her own home with the addition of Ritsuko’s presence...she wants to do whatever she can to help Maya, to protect her and make her happy and _love_ her.

Ritsuko goes to where Maya is sitting and crouches down next to her, left hand braced on the coffee table for support and the other reaching out to gently but firmly cup Maya’s cheek. A soft and almost desperate utterance of Maya’s name is all the warning Ritsuko gives before leaning in to press their lips together.

The contact isn’t electric or mind blowing like Misato used to wax poetic about back in the day after coming home from a solid month at Kaji’s, but the feeling of Maya’s skin warm against her palm and lips soft against her own is enough to make Ritsuko feel like maybe God really _is_ in His heaven, because this definitely feels right. She feels Maya go completely weak and lean in to her, and it only gets brighter.

Ritsuko decides to pull back first, gives Maya one final opportunity for refusal and rejection as if she could’ve still been miscalculating any of this. It’s bullshit, really. Ritsuko wants to see her face, read her expression. She halfway knows what to expect, but seeing is believing.

“Ritsuko,” Maya says again, and Ritsuko belatedly notices the fingers clutching at the back of her damp shirt. It’s going to dry wrinkled. Ritsuko can’t fucking care. She wants Maya to say her name again, and again, and again.

The second time, Maya pulls back instead, startled by the noise of her coffee maker that she definitely forgot about if the embarrassment on her face is any indication. It remains forgotten, or at the very least ignored.

The third time is also Maya’s doing, but so she can say, “I was going to tell you that they announced they’re suspending the trains for the rest of the evening because of the storm.”

“How unfortunate,” Ritsuko says, running her fingers through Maya’s now semi-dry hair and admiring the faint traces of what’d been left of her lipstick after lunch and the rain, now smudged across Maya’s lips instead of her own. “Are there any hotels nearby?”

Maya’s eyes flit down to Ritsuko’s mouth, her hands now migrated down and around to Ritsuko’s waist but still holding at the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline. “No,” she says. Ritsuko knows it’s a lie. She wants to make a comment about lying to your boss.

“Hmm, well,” she hums, and okay, fine, maybe _this_ atmosphere feels a little electric. “Mind if I stay here?”

“Please,” Maya whispers, but it’s already lost against the smile Ritsuko leans back in with.

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts for...almost a year, whoops! thanks, pandemic
> 
> come chat on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/unlshthfrckngbt)


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